Play Along
by Doot-croovoot
Summary: Narumitsu! In an AU where DL-6 never happened, Phoenix and Miles had closure when they parted ways during their childhoods. What will become of their reborn relationship when they meet again as adults due to a tedious case? Will they remember each-other? Romance, drama, humour, and fluff!
1. Evangeline

Phoenix Wright dared not blink as he held back tears.

His emotional state had been painfully deteriorating throughout the past hour-and-a-half as he felt more and more apologetic looks from various couples around the room. Nick had been stood up by Dahlia, and he was sitting alone at a table which was obviously for two; in a busy, fancy restaurant. He'd picked out the best place he could find, he'd booked the most expensive seats available. Somewhere inside, knew he'd resorted to bribing her into staying with him. He also knew, somewhere, that she definitely wasn't turning up, and that this really shouldn't have surprised him.

But, in a fit of denial, he snapped at the approaching waitress; "I told you, I am waiting for my date! She'll arrive any minute!"

The lady paused her step, but then persisted.

"Sir, I'm afraid you've been waiting for too-"

The sound of a small clatter cut the waitress off. "Sorry!" a man blurted.

Some couple's table had probably been knocked a little. How terrible.

"Ah, sorry, excuse me," the awkward person continued without lowering their volume. "I'm here! Hello! I was caught in the most terrible traffic jam, I do apologise! Sorry, sorry..."

Phoenix turned round to see the source of the unfamiliar voice clumsily weaving around the circular tables, apologising to everyone he accidentally nudged, and heading in Nick's direction. The man caught Phoenix looking at him from the corner of his eye, stood up straight and eagerly waved, baring a wide smile.

What on Earth…?

The stranger arrived at Phoenix's table, and leaned forwards in what the paralysed Nick thought was going to be a kiss on the cheek, but the man hid his face with his bangs as he whispered in his ear:

"Play along."

Phoenix stared at this cunning individual as he pulled away. He was gorgeous, but a little imposing.

"I… Yes, hi! I'm so glad you're here!" Nick could feel all the eyes in the room on him. He laughed nervously. "I didn't think you'd come..."

"The weather was terrible, I was unable to contact you!" the stranger stated, loudly. "I truly appreciate how long you waited for me!" He politely smiled at the waitress. "May I have the wine list?"

She squinted. She could've sworn the date her client had been waiting for was female, but whatever. "Certainly."

"Thank you."

She took Nick's empty glass from their table and left. As rest of the restaurant gradually returned to their own business, Nick felt himself relax a little. He was still grasping the situation though, and so decided to let the man opposite him speak first. The fellow sat down and leaned forwards, balancing his head on linked hands. His face was flushed red. It seemed he had actually really embarrassed himself with the risky stunt he'd pulled off.

"My name is Miles Edgeworth," he told Nick, his voice almost completely different. "I apologise if what I did wasn't the right thing. Are you all right? What's your name?"

Phoenix burst into tears.

Miles Edgeworth seemed to panic and quickly looked left and right. Keeping in mind that he had to continue the act of Phoenix's late date, he gently reached over in an attempt at a reassuring gesture.

"D-Dear… are you, er, are you feeling okay?"

Nick looked at him, and nodded. He didn't want his voice to break, so he said nothing. He gasped a little as he tried to catch his breath quietly, then held his face in his hands. He had no idea what he was feeling. He had company now, and the weight of being stood up had lifted tremendously. However, a new type of lonesomeness was emerging. This stranger cared about him more than his own girlfriend did, it made no sense, and he'd owe him big time for saving him from that huge horrible fiasco. Everything was absolutely terrible.

Phoenix knew he needed to calm down. He focussed on the sounds around him, the murmuring couples, the clinking of cutlery. Calm.

He looked at Mr Edgeworth again, took in his appearance. The man wore a white shirt with a dark green vest over it, which shaped his figure nicely from what Nick could see. Despite being rather attractive, he didn't have a particularly friendly face. But seemed to be trying his best.

"My name is Phoenix. Phoenix Wright."

The ghost of a smirk appeared on Edgeworth's face. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Phoenix. Here." He took out a clean tissue from one of his pockets, and handed it over. Nick sniffed and chuckled, dried his face, and deeply appreciated the consideration.

"Ahaha… thank you."

The waitress arrived, silently placed two menus and wine lists on the table, then left.

"Cheers," Phoenix called. He watched her go, then turned to his apparent new date.

"I, oh, my gosh, thank you so much," he spluttered. "You've done all this for me and I don't even know you… you totally saved my ass. It's so good to see there's still some very kind people in the world. I think I really needed a reminder of that. Thank you."

The man seemed to flinch at the use of the word 'ass'. Nick made a mental note about what language he ought to use in front of him, despite how he knew he'd forget it soon.

"You are most welcome," Edgeworth said. "We'll have to continue this façade for the rest of the evening though, and for that I apologise. It'll surely become tiring."

"But then, why did you decide to help me in the first place?"

The man avoided eye contact. "I'm not really certain. Second-hand embarrassment, maybe? You looked so dire, through the window. I decided to help you in a spur-of-the moment decision. Those, I must say, are quite uncommon for me. I'm a little surprised." He looked like he realised something. "Ah... again, I apologise if I've said something upsetting. I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

"What, conversation?"

"Er, yes?"

Another chuckle escaped from Nick. "I honestly couldn't care less, considering what you've done for me this evening. Thank you so much."

"You don't need to keep thanking me..." Miles seemed very composed, yet very uncomfortable. Perhaps he didn't want to insult Phoenix, and was treading lightly.

"Do you even want to be here, Mr Edgeworth?"

"I..."

"Let's go," Nick told him. "Let's just act like we've cancelled our date due to it getting too late, and once we're out of sight, we can part and never see each-other again. C'mon, let's do that now." Phoenix pushed out his chair, but this seemed to make Mr Edgeworth look even more uneasy.

"No," he said, "I'd rather not waste this. Like you told me; I saved your, er, your ass, which is something I don't really do very often. Well, at least, in any context similar to this one. I'm not exactly romantically attuned, but at least let me try to redeem this evening for you." He waited for Nick's response, looking at his lap. "...If you wish to do so, of course," he added.

Phoenix's heart told him fuck it. Miles Edgeworth seemed good-natured enough, and Nick had already paid for the meal. Life was short, and with everything that had happened so far that evening, he was finding it difficult to bother with agonizing over any consequences involved. He hoped the guy wasn't a stalker or something creepy, put as much effort as he could into pushing Dahlia out of his mind for the time being, and went for it.

"All right," he said with a grin, "let's order some wine."

Mr Edgeworth showed a polite smile back before he hid his face behind the tall menu.

Phoenix excitedly picked up his and scanned the contents. He had no idea what all the French stuff was, got bored quickly, and made conversation instead. "I like the look of the char-donnie stuff here," he mused. He had absolutely no idea what he was saying. "The chabliss one. I think I'll go for that."

Miles peeped round the side of his menu, and raised an eyebrow. His hair fell in curtains that overlapped his eyes ever so slightly, which had given him this attractive habit of side-glancing. Phoenix hoped he wasn't projecting his lost feelings onto him,he could already feel himself becoming emotionally attached.

"It's chardonnay, and chablis. Shar-don-ay, sha-bli. And no, don't order that. Goodness, just look at how cheap it is! Instead, please try the billecar-salmon rosé. It has a similar refined taste, but is… well… much nicer."

Considerate, and clever. That was very impressive. "But..."

"I'll pay for the wine."

Too considerate. "Mister Edgeworth, you don't have to-"

"No no, it wasn't I who was stood up this evening. Tonight is probably not the best of nights for you. At least let me try to make it better."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Phoenix stared at him in awe. Edgeworth, he was making Dahlia seem... unhealthy. All of the romantic things she did for Phoenix were so blatant or dramatic, like almost anyone could do it. There was a lack of little things, small gestures that showed the love was always there. She was never like that. She was sweet, but she'd never been charming. She didn't love Nick. It was so obvious. It always had been. Was she even a good person? Nick used to think so. She would never say something as selfless as what Edgeworth had just said to Phoenix though. No way would she see a stranger looking lonely through a window and decide to help. Was she mean? Or was Mr Edgeworth just nice? Was he interested? What was going on? Everything was up in the air. What was Nick feeling? It was new. He wanted to think things through without his emotions getting in the way, but the man opposite him was screwing it all up.

Mr Edgeworth sheepishly looked him up and down. "...What is it?"

"I don't even know you..." Phoenix murmured.

"Yes...?"

"I'll never be able to repay you for what you've done for me this evening."

Edgeworth shifted. "That's fine. Let's move on from all the thanking now."

The pair ordered their wine and meals, and got talking. Mr Edgeworth mainly asked pretty obscure questions, but Nick thoroughly valued someone taking an interest in him personally.

"I'm a mess! I don't know what's wrong with me..." he complained. "I keep going back to her. She says all these cruel things sometimes, I don't know if she means to, but she always tells me to forgive her and I always do, because I'm a huge moron who is so crazy for her. Well, actually, I don't know about that any more. I get surprised whenever she does something like this though, like leaving me here all by myself, but I really shouldn't be. She's been acting like this for so long now, and lately, even worse than usual! She's the only girlfriend I've ever had. If I'd had others throughout my life to compare her with, making a judgement on her actions would probably be so much easier."

"The girl who discourteously left you here alone this evening?"

Phoenix realised he had been rambling. "Yeah, her. Sorry. Oh, but I like dudes too, don't worry!"

"I… right."

Why did this guy get so uneasy over the littlest things?

"Mr Edgeworth, We really don't have to continue this, you know."

Edgeworth shook his head. "Wright, no-"

"Call me Phoenix. Or Nick."

"...Phoenix, we may as well. I've paid for the wine now, and you have paid for the table. Which I will gladly pay you back for, by the way."

Pay him back? Just how loaded was he!?

"N-No, don't do that."

"All right."

So gracious and accepting. Phoenix tilted his head and smiled. "I don't know what it is about you, but I feel weirdly homely with you already, Mr Edgeworth. Maybe I know you from somewhere?"

He thought for a second. "What an interesting word choice. Homely, eh? And I don't believe so. At least, it's nothing I can think of."

"Maybe you recognise me from work or something! What do you do for a living?"

"I'm, erm, an attorney."

Edgeworth's occupation rung only very distant bells for Nick. "No… Maybe you bought one of my paintings?"

"You're an artist?"

"Ah, Yeah." Nick felt like he was admitting a dirty secret. He was so humbled by this man, this wealthy, profound lawyer. "I'm freelance. I've got my degree and all, but it's just so hard finding work."

"I see."

"And… I probably shouldn't make the whole thing worse by buying all this stuff for a girl that doesn't actually like me. But here I am. She doesn't even appreciate my paintings for her."

"Wright," Edgeworth didn't seem to want him meandering off into another depressed tangent, as he was speaking with a little assertion. "I may not be fully informed, but I suggest you rethink your stance on where you want to be with this woman. Maybe you should talk things through with her, and find out what she's been thinking. She might be willing to do something about this. Honesty is underrated, you have to remember that every successful relationship will need it."

"Yeah. Thank you. You're so full of wisdom!"

Miles smiled genuinely for the first time. "I try."

Their wine arrived. Phoenix completely forgot about his worries and became eager to try the fancy rosé stuff. As soon as it had been poured, he gulped a large portion of it down and had to hold back a spit-take. He coughed and spluttered, whilst Edgeworth sipped his drink and watched, along with the waitress. They both had completely straight faces, and Nick had no clue if he'd amused or disappointed them.

"Sorry..." he mumbled.

"You don't like the wine, then?" the lady asked ironically.

"No no," Phoenix fibbed, "the wine was great! I just drank too much at once."

Edgeworth said in his late-date voice, "there's no need to lie, Nick. Everyone has understandably different tastes."

Phoenix ordered some water.

Their meals arrived, and the pair tucked in. Miles seemed to loosen up after a glass or two.

"So, Phoenix," he said, "if you don't mind me asking, what's the current situation with the one who stood you up? How long have you been dating her for?"

Nick put down his cutlery, and thought of how to explain. "Well, her name is Dahlia."

"She has an irritatingly pretty name."

"I know, right? And we've been dating for exactly a year now, although we've been on-and-off since college. I've been in love with her for so long. Today was our first proper anniversary. But she's been acting so sour lately, and I have no idea why. I don't know if we're still dating or what any more, to be honest. She hasn't even moved in, but half her things are at my place! What stage in a relationship even is that? My flat is way too small for her stuff anyway, she really took advantage of me there. Man, I was head over heels for her! But now… of this evening, it's weird. When I think about her, I just feel empty, like I don't even care. She's a huge part of my life, she's my Dolly, and I just don't care right now. I don't know..." he trailed off.

"I'm sorry for touching on such an intimate subject, Wright." Miles shook his head. "I mean, Phoenix. Nick."

Phoenix smiled. "It's fine! But I've been talking about myself all evening. What about you, Mr Edgeworth? What is your love life like?"

He sipped his wine. "Non-existent."

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that."

The lawyer frowned. "Everyone tells me that exact thing. They're sorry for me because I'm not going through with all these pointless romantic rituals, but if I were to do those, it would be for no reason other than 'it's what you're supposed to do'. There's nothing to be sorry about. I'm perfectly happy."

"You are?"

"Yes. I have people who I care about. And my dog. That's enough for me."

Nick felt something sink in his stomach. "Okay," he said simply.

"However," Edgeworth continued, "I don't mind attempting things such as this. It's not something I feel like I need to do, but there's also no harm in doing it."

"Dating?"

"I suppose this is a date, yes."

That thing that had sunk floated right back up again.

"And…" Edgeworth added, "I'm enjoying myself. So this is fine."

The thing exploded.

"How's your food, Mr Edgeworth?" asked Nick.

"Delicious. I haven't had shrimp in such a long time. I honestly don't know why, shrimp is very enjoyable. My hands are becoming a bit slimy, though. That might actually be why." He picked up a napkin. "What about your meal? Oh, and there is no need to call me 'Mr Edgeworth'. Simply call me Miles."

Phoenix grinned. "Miles, oh my God, I have no idea what I'm eating because the menu was all in French, but it's great."

"You're eating squid."

"What, really?"

"Oh, you've never had squid before?"

"No. I'd definitely have it again though." Nick immediately realised what he said could've been taken as some sort of hint. He felt heat rise to his head, and pressed his hands against his lap. After a moment of building up the courage, he anxiously looked at Edgeworth to see if he'd spotted it.

Miles was still dealing with his sticky fingers. "Hm?"

Never mind.

"Where do you live?" Phoenix asked.

"Within the city," Edgeworth told him, "not too far from here, I believe. I have my own flat above Edgeworth&Co Law Offices, so for business I'm not too far from the high street."

"Ooh, I've probably walked by your office a few times, I live close by too!" Nick immediately realised he may have stated that a little too happily. Edgeworth gave him an attentive nod, and didn't seem to think much of it.

They continued eating in a comfortable silence for a while. Nick had been trying to stop himself from developing feelings for this stranger – he still had Dahlia to consider after all – but he had failed miserably.

Actually, no, his failure was not miserable. It was joyful. Fantastic! It was like he had been completely emotionally torn from Dahlia in the most positive of ways, and was having a brilliant time. He was reluctant as he finished his meal. The evening would have to end.

"Phoenix?"

"Yeah?"

Miles neatly laid his practically unused cutlery down neatly on his empty plate, and refused to look at Nick again. "Would you be willing to drop by my office sometime?"

"Oh yes, sure," Phoenix said with absolutely no hesitation whatsoever. He hoped he didn't seem desperate, but he knew he and Edgeworth were thinking the same thing. Probably. Didn't people usually need time though, to get over other people? Were Nick's emotions trying to defend themselves or something?

"That's much appreciated," Miles recited. "Here, take my business card." He held it out in front of Nick between two fingers.

Phoenix did his best to hide his excitement as he took it. It felt weirdly slippery.

"It has my address, open hours when you can drop in, and my email should you need to contact me prior. Oh, sorry about the grease from the shrimp! I should probably use this napkin again..."

Miles fumbled his hands clean.

It was almost hilarious how adorable this man was. He was practically humiliated by his shrimpy fingers. Either that or he was an incredibly lightweight drunk.

"Miles, you sound like you're inviting me over so I can hire you," Nick said with a grin. Was this going to be considered flirting? He had no clue.

"Ah, apologies..."

Phoenix was oddly relieved that business wasn't the case, despite it being quite obvious anyway.

"Force of habit," continued Miles. "I would like to arrange an entirely casual meeting with you."

Entirely casual seemed like a bit of a stretch. However, Nick was almost determined to see Miles open up some more. He had no clue what he was in for, and was deadly curious. Currently, it was almost impossible to imagine Edgeworth doing something silly, like dance around or stick his tongue out menacingly. Phoenix wanted to know if that could change. "Superb," he said delightedly.

"It's getting late. It may be wise to call it a night."

"Okay."

The pair tucked out their chairs, and headed towards where their coats were being kept. Nick slowed his step and seized the opportunity to get a good look at Edgeworth's figure from behind. His shoulders were almost ridiculously broad. Mm.

"Ah, mine is the burgundy one," Miles told the attendant.

The streets were wet from rain, but the sky was clear. Edgeworth had to flick his hair out his face in the breeze. The street lights gave the cold evening a warm yellow glow.

"Thank you, Miles," Phoenix said. "I have realised, because of you, that I finally need to end my toxic relationship. My feelings for her aren't what they should be. Dahlia has really harshly battered my self-esteem without me even realising it. There are people in this world much better for me than her, and I need to stop telling myself she's what I deserve. She isn't. I'm looking forward to seeing you again."

Miles was almost surprised he'd influenced such a decision on this man, despite often helping determine much greater decisions with his job. From their evening together, he'd gathered that Phoenix's character wasn't a very affirmative one. Or so he'd thought. "I see," he said, "I hope all goes well. Feel free to contact me should you need help."

They walked for a while, until Phoenix stopped and rubbed the ground with his shoe. "I guess this is farewell for now," he said, swinging his arms. "My apartment is just down this road. It's really close to the high street. Man, I wish I owned the bottom floor so I could make a gallery or something. Anyway! I really needed this evening. Thank you so much."

"Cheers! I have thoroughly enjoyed myself!"

Miles smiled one last time, turned and started walking. He held up a hand to politely wave to his date as he left. He then realised he had no idea if Phoenix could see him doing so, and that he'd also totally forgotten to offer to walk Phoenix to his door, which was the courteous thing to do. Where had his manners gone?

He felt water seep into his shoe as he accidentally trod in a puddle. Dammit.

Why was Miles so concerned with Phoenix? The man was innocent and naive, which was not something Miles considered endearing. He was very easily emotionally manipulated too. Weak. On top of that, the fact that his artistic abilities reaped almost no business suggested his paintings weren't that great.

Then what was the problem? What Miles appreciated was talent, knowledge; sturdy and passionate emotions! Not the loose cannon he'd just eaten a meal with. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. Or it was the confusion and stress from his current case catching up with him. Perhaps having a break after so much work made him link his relaxed and careless feelings with whoever happened to be nearby.

Oh, what use was it?

Miles Edgeworth had accidentally fallen for Phoenix Wright.


	2. The Sorry Truth

That had not gone according to plan.

Well, actually, Miles wasn't sure he'd even had a plan in the first place. If Wright had spilled the beans on some solid evidence, it wouldn't have been possible for Edgeworth to use it as a testimony without his permission. Miles supposed he would've had to use the information to aid himself as he gathered the related evidence on his own later. If he were to know exactly what he was after, it'd become infinitely easier to find the pieces of the puzzle. His actions had definitely not been pointless.

But now, Miles almost wanted to drop the case all together.

He'd unexpectedly found Phoenix somewhat appealing in a personal manner, and had forgot his original intentions fairly quickly. It was amazing, and terrible. Just now, the young artist had sent an email to Miles; asking when he'd be able to visit, and for permission to hang up a poster advertising his painting commissions if Miles had space for one on a notice board or something. He'd mindfully apologised if that were too pushy a request.

It was awfully quick, considering how they'd only met that evening and that it was fairly late at night, but Miles decided to reply; mentioning that Wright could visit a week on Sunday, and bringing a poster was perfectly fine. He did in fact have a notice board, but it was used for things to do with the law practice only. Phoenix was free to hang it up on a wall in reception though, as long as he didn't damage the paint with pins.

Edgeworth's workspace was generously lit by a desk lamp, and papers from his current case were messily scattered all over. It was an organised mess though, and it was relatively easy to clear some room for his laptop. A steaming hot herbal tea stood patiently on a coaster; and Pess was dosing on the floor in her bed, occasionally whimpering at whatever was going on inside her canine mind. Miles considered how favourable chasing cars currently seemed.

He sighed, exhausted, and leaned back in his chair. He could only accurately describe his current case as an utter disaster; testimonies were clashing, the prosecutor was especially ruthless, nobody was co-operating; and to make matters worse, he now apparently had unnecessary feelings for someone who didn't even know they were involved. It was unfamiliar and unorthodox. He didn't like it, and it was his own fault.

He considered asking his father or a colleague for advice, or maybe even help on the case. It wasn't even a murder. Besides, did such a person exist whom Miles could open up to about his foolish actions? He felt ashamed of himself, and he had yet to inform Phoenix on the truth as to why originally he met him there that evening. The gesture he thought Miles generously made meant a lot to him, he'd undoubtedly be very upset. Dread was stirring.

Perhaps not, then. Miles usually bore things alone anyway.

From what he'd found out so far, he had concluded that Dahlia was not a savoury individual. She was emotionally abusive, self-indulgent, and purposefully indirectly rude. She had seemed almost sickly sweet during the first trial, and only ever-so-slightly less sweet in person, but it was all a ruse. It had to be. Edgeworth was glad he trusted his gut. A person like Dahlia was very able to commit a crime; sherbet on the outside, tripe underneath. Despite considering himself as one not too interested in romance – at least, up until recently – Miles had always greatly disrespected those who cheated. Especially those who did it repeatedly. With multiple people.

The court didn't share this sentiment.

Edgeworth realised he was mos likely becoming negatively biased towards Dahlia especially, due to his new-found feelings for someone she'd let down. It was strange and conflicting, as Miles had let Nick down too. He hadn't really experienced many similar issues before, and suddenly felt a great amount of understanding for those who had. Witnesses would commonly mess up their testimonies as they tried to protect friends or family, it was something Edgeworth had grown used to; but he'd barely considered how they actually felt. It was hard to think about things clearly when an obstacle as dubious as emotions got in the way. This fresh comprehension would probably aid Miles' people skills. Maybe there was a way for him to both continue the case and develop an honest relationship with Phoenix. He wouldn't be seeing him for over a week, it was plenty of time to think of a peaceful way to come forward.

Determined, he sipped his tea, and began to scan through his notes on the case.

One of Dahlia's boyfriends, Shu Ghadadi, was a wealthy but reckless man who had been accused of attempting her murder. Dahlia had publicly confessed she was cheating on him with many other men. It wasn't uncommon for someone to plot the death of a partner who betrayed them, so the case seemed to be relatively simple.

Edgeworth, of course, was Ghadadi's unfortunate defence attorney.

The defendant appeared to be an unheeding and spontaneous person - he had a history of assault. Dahlia had apparently survived a deadly attack when she defended herself with a saucepan; and had come to the police, terrified. Shu had been deemed mentally unstable and was being held in the detention centre prison until a verdict was decided.

Edgeworth's involvement was near-pointless for a while, until he resolved to make use of his advantageous friendship with one of the detectives from the local precinct. Miles' excellent deductive reasoning abilities meant the police would often request his help with particularly tricky cases, and through this he'd met a detective named Dick Gumshoe. The man seemed fine with using his authority to help Edgeworth pursue the truth behind some cases with which they were both involved. The archives Gumshoe had access to may not have been the most secretive, but this did benefit Miles, as several members of the police force did not trust defence attorneys with anything too confidential.

After a few searches of their database, Gumshoe had the papers ready a few days after the first trial.

Miles was reading through some of those new documents when he'd discovered his only lead – that a girl named Melissa Foster was executed for the murder of Dahlia's step-sister, Valerie Hawthorne, years ago. It didn't seem like it was too relevant with the matter at hand, until Edgeworth saw that Melissa Foster had the exact same face as Dahlia.

Had she murdered her own step-sister? If so, did she fake her execution and escape somehow? Was that even be possible? It was all very, very suspicious. Either that person in the photo was Dahlia Hawthorne - which was almost unimaginable - or she had an extreme look-alike.

It turned out she did.

* * *

 **Six hours previous**

"Ms Hawthorne," Edgeworth inquired, "I know this question is a little atypical, but do you have an identical twin sister?"

Dahlia considered the question for a few moments. Miles could hear her quiet exhalations through the phone. She was probably aware she was being recorded.

"Yes, actually," she said, somewhat surprised, "I did."

"Past tense?"

"She... died."

"What was her name?"

Hawthorne's voice started to flounder a little. "Why do you need to know this, Mister Edgeworth? I'm feeling a bit upset..."

"I am asking you in order to pursue the truth," Miles insisted. "I acknowledge that as Ghadadi's defence attorney, you do not trust me. If he is truly guilty, however, I will follow this case no further, and he can receive the verdict's punishment. I understand this would have repercussions for myself, but I'd rather not let a potential killer run free. My reputation surely suggests this. If what you've told the court is true, you have nothing to fear."

Hawthorne took a deep breath. "That was... pretty convincing. But you're a lawyer, you're a professional at being convincing."

"It's the truth," Miles assured.

"Mister Edgeworth, why do need to know about my personal life?"

Miles thought the answer to that was obvious, but he responded politely. "The backgrounds of the persons in question can affect their mindsets and outlooks. It is best I am as informed as possible in order to make a clear judgement. What was your twin's name?"

Dahlia hesitated. "Erm... Melissa Foster. We were raised by separate families, so her last name is the same as mine. She was born with my family name."

"I see. I will not pry any further now. However, I must ask if you are able to provide evidence of your twin, with say, a birth certificate, or...?"

"I'm able, yes."

"Is it possible for you to drop by my office this evening with it?"

"...Yes."

Edgeworth was sat at the receptionist's desk watching a show about a samurai on the computer as he waited.

He really needed closure in the form of evidence so he'd be able to decide what to do with the investigation. If no trace of a twin were to be found, great suspicion could end up surrounding Dahlia due to Valerie's murder. If a twin had existed, however, it'd be back to square one. He'd need to check the authenticity of those files.

Realising his mind had wondered, Miles irritatedly tried to find the part of the show he was at before he lost focus. He then heard who he assumed was Hawthorne lightly tap on the entrance; so he quickly paused it and abandoned the tab, despite the computer being purposefully placed so that no clients could see the screen.

"Come in!"

He watched Dahlia slip inside, shake her umbrella, then delicately close the door behind her.

"Hi!" she called as she saw him. "I have the documents here. It was pretty hard to keep them from getting wet, it's pouring it down out there. I'm glad you were still open!" She paused to show off her smile. When Edgeworth didn't seem to react, she carried on. "I brought Melissa's birth certificate, along with her death one. I've also got a photo of us together from the last time we met, but I guess it doesn't count for much because of what people can edit into pictures these days... Oh, and I couldn't find the certificate that proved her name had been changed, but her birth name and death name are different, so that should be proof of that. I hope it's enough!"

Miles blinked. "Ms Hawthorne... my goodness. I merely asked for her birth certificate. The death certificate and photo are a very thoughtful bonus. Thank you. Do you mind if I look a these?"

"Not at all!"

Miles took them to see that Dahlia's twin sister was born 'Iris Hawthorne'. The death certificate stated that seven years ago, Melissa Foster was hanged. Both documents irritatingly seemed genuine so far. In the photo, the identical girls had their arms around each-other, and were grinning at the camera; the background appearing to be some kind of screen door. Anyone who could add two and two would be able to conclude that Iris and Melissa were one and the same.

Dammit. All that suspicion and mystery was close to being gone.

"May I photocopy these?"

"Go ahead!" Dahlia closed her eyes cheerfully. She appeared so delighted that Miles wouldn't have been surprised if she knew exactly how difficult she was making things for him.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked out of courtesy.

"Yes, please. Milk and two sugars."

He nodded. "You can come through here with me whilst you wait if you wish."

Edgeworth took the files and led Dahlia into his workplace. It was an office room of sorts, with a large desk and adjacent office sofa. Miles had cleaned his desk earlier in preparation; so it was bare apart from a single folder, a pencil pot, a coaster and and a lamp which hung above everything. Shelves leaking with books and binders completely covered one wall. Pess' bed was on the floor in a corner, and in another was a small worktop with a sink, complete with a kettle and microwave on top of it. The photocopier stood tall nearby.

Miles pressed a few buttons on it, lifted the lid and began to scan, flicking the kettle on with his other hand.

Every notion he'd hypothesised seemed to arrive at a dead end. Was his case done for? Would he have to resign from it? His only suspicious lead turned out to be no lead at all. Maybe having an identical twin capable of murder meant Hawthorne was capable too...? No, they were raised differently. Did the death of her step-sister leave Dahlia mentally unstable? That was a possibility, Miles supposed.

Or maybe Dahlia was the actual culprit of Valerie's murder, and she'd framed her twin!

...No, that wasn't possible. According to the documents from Gumshoe, Mia Fey was involved in solving that case. She wouldn't have let that loose end go untied, it was too dramatic and interesting.

Miles saw that Dahlia had perched herself on the sofa, in a somewhat dainty pose. She really was the epitome of cuteness. She had large eyes, a tall forehead, sweet smile and petite figure. Everything one would find adorable. She always seemed to look a little worn out too, which would only fuel the maternal and paternal responses of those around her. However, this was all something Edgeworth had consciously acknowledged. He didn't feel it. It was very fortunate, considering how she'd managed to charm almost everyone else working on the case.

Trying to improve his understanding of how she handled herself, Miles decided to start a conversation.

"I apologise if this visit has inconvenienced you," he said as he prepared their mugs.

Dahlia giggled carelessly. "No no, it's all right! I was going to be in town this evening anyway."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I had a date."

Miles paused and turned round. "Ms Hawthorne..."

"I know, I know," she admitted with a smile. "You don't think very highly of me, right? But... men. They're not genuine. So why should I be? There's nothing real going on, anyway. I haven't known any of them for very long... I seem to have trouble when it comes to relationships, actually. They all seem to end before things get serious."

Well, that was incredibly unexpected and shocking.

"I think I'm getting scared," she continued, "That I'll never find the one..."

Edgeworth did not make an attempt at being comforting.

Dahlia sighed. "Anyway, I honestly don't think I'm in any deep enough relationships for anyone to justifiably become angry with me for dating a couple of people at once... some guys just get upset and overreact. But that's okay! Everyone has bad days."

Her openly admitting to cheating did not aid Edgeworth in his case at all. It was Ghadadi's suspected motive for attacking her, and she was fuelling it. It was entirely possible she was doing that on purpose.

"I see," Miles acknowledged. "So, how was your date?"

"Oh, I didn't go."

"You called it off so you could come here?"

"Well, no, I didn't call it off. But I'm sure he'll realise I'm not coming and head home. It's at that fancy French place down the street. Evangeline, I think. You know, the one with the pretty purple curtains and the big display of lilies in the window? He lives pretty close to there, so it's no problem."

So she'd stood someone up? Excellent. Perfect. More justifacation for her being a terrible enough lover to provoke an assault.

"Ms Hawthorne, maybe you should go to meet him after this."

"No, not now. It's been, like, an hour since it should've started. Maybe more. The train journey is kind of long, so I was happy to take a later one in."

Miles started to feel responsible. "You've left this person alone in a restaurant for at least an hour?"

"Don't worry, he's probably gone home."

"...I see." He wanted to dig a little further, to test if Dahlia was actually being truthful. Miles knew he appeared as the type who didn't engage in conversation unless he needed to, which was true, but he went ahead anyway. "What's he like?" he asked.

"Well, to be honest, he's sort of whiny and needy."

That explained why she was happy to skip the date. "Then why are you seeing him?"

"B-because, well... I like him. His name is literally Phoenix, isn't that cool? And he's an artist! I just don't have the heart to let him go..." Her cheeks turned pink.

It was almost like Dahlia simply looked at people and thought 'I like that one, they're mine now.' How possessive did one have to be? How easy was it for her to charm them, if she could have anyone she wanted?

Photocopies finished, Miles handed her documents back. "The kettle is still going," he said. "Would you like to stay for tea, or...?"

"Oh, no, I should probably go. I'm really sorry! The weather's getting bad, I want to catch the earliest train I can. Make yourself a drink though! It'll keep you warm, it's pretty cold this evening!"

"I have central heating."

"...Yes. I'm off now, thank you!"

Miles showed her outside, then went back to his desk and began reading through the files again. He'd discovered nothing miraculous, nothing new or open. If he didn't do something, or find out anything important, he'd have to drop the case. His client was rather rich, he may have simply been a guilty man with a family wealthy enough to afford a top lawyer.

But Dahlia was so suspicious.

It was merely a feeling Miles had, which wasn't exactly something he could present in court, but it was there. It couldn't linger forever. It had to be satisfied. The next, final trial was a little over two months away, and Miles felt like that was both too much time and too little. At least Dahlia hadn't successfully been murdered, he thought. He'd have only had three days to build his case.

There were limited options. Hawthorne had almost undoubtedly been attacked; the hospital reported she had bruises from strangulation which she showed off during the first trial. Miles' hopes lay in proving that Ghadadi was not the culprit; or that his intentions were not murder; or that he had some other motive for what he did, such as self-defence. The latter didn't seem likely, especially due to the man admitting none of the above were true anyway. However, he appeared to still be madly obsessed with Dahlia – most likely due to the attack being a spur-of-the-moment thing - which meant she'd possibly convinced him to lie in court.

Miles sighed heavily as he realised he'd restored his desk back to its papery mess. His thoughts always became so scattered during cases; tangents leading away into other tangents, new theories forming constantly. His workspace reflected that quite well.

The current situation only disrupted things further. For what previously seemed like something so simple, Hawthorne and Ghadadi's case had turned into a nightmare. There had to be some kind of underlying drama occurring, it couldn't have been a coincidence Dahlia's stepsister had been murdered by her own twin. The motive for that murder had permanently remained a mystery, that wasn't normal.

Things were becoming desperate.

With no other leads, Edgeworth rolled up his shirt sleeves, adjusted his collar and vest neatly. He took his mac from its hook, grabbed his umbrella and left the practice. He walked through the darkening streets for a while, until he arrived at Evangeline. The sound of rainfall and the low murmurs from the restaurant became especially apparent when he stood still.

One hand manning the umbrella, the other in its pocket, Edgeworth examined the occupants of each table through the window, squinting awkwardly to get a good view past the droplets. They were almost all couples, apart from one group of three, and...

And one man who was alone.

Miles watched him.

He had his head in his hands, his fingers digging in to his jet black hair. Miles spotted an empty glass on the table. Nothing fancy, just one simple drinking glass. There was no bag hanging on the opposite chair. This was looking promising. That man had to be Phoenix. He was alone and stressed, he looked so tormented. He had every right to be agitated if he'd been waiting for over an hour-and-a-half.

Was it worth the risk?

Did Phoenix know Dahlia very well? She said she hadn't been with any of her boyfriends for long. Was that legitimate? Well, any information would provide some insight toward her true self, even if it were a little vague. But what if Phoenix had a violent personality? There was also a chance he was unwilling to talk about Hawthorne. Any information he did provide could be exaggerated or skewed due to his emotional distress. He may straight-up lie about her. Or he could relay to Dahlia what Miles was doing if he still placed trust in her for some reason. He might not even be the right guy.

Miles willed the man through the window to be none of the above and entered the restaurant.


	3. Milk and Two Sugars

"Erm… Hello?"

Miles emerged from his office to see Phoenix awkwardly waiting in the doorway.

It was a lazy Sunday; and Edgeworth had prepared for Wright's first visit by clearing his schedule, tidying his home, and exercising Pess early in the morning to tire her out enough so that he could easily leave her in his bedroom asleep and safely out of the way.

He and Wright had been exchanging emails, texts and phone calls since the night at the restaurant. They'd even managed to meet up a couple of times, which had always resulted in them both returning to Wright's apartment for an hour or two. Throughout, they had learned much more about each-other. Miles found out that Phoenix enjoyed playing the piano, albeit not being too good at it; and that he once broke his leg when he was in college whilst sledging. Miles had mentioned a few of his own accomplishments; such as a helpful book he'd published for those studying law; followed by another which entertainingly documented some of the most obscure, interesting and dramatic murder cases from recent history. Wright, of course, was very impressed by it all. Miles hoped he hadn't made himself seem intimidating. People often kept their distance from him due to his admirable but large reputation, and he had no idea how to connect with them by himself. Thankfully, Nick seemed to recognise Miles for the person he was, not the things he had done. It was pleasant, and probably factored into why he wanted to see him again.

Meanwhile, Miles had also resolved to continue the case, as his suspicion of Dahlia needed justification. This meant he'd have to inform Phoenix at some point soon, but he had no idea how. Nick liked Miles, but a large contributing factor was probably the _heroic deed_ Miles committed a week and five days previous. He did not do that out of the goodness of his heart, which was what Phoenix blissfully believed, and what Miles regrettably wished were true.

A truly sticky situation. It was common for Edgeworth's job to land him at an impasse, and occasionally his personal affairs, but not the two combined.

Nick was holding a large stack of papers and a rucksack. He smiled as he saw Edgeworth approach. "Good morning!" he chirped with a practically alluring smile.

"Hello, Wright. Would you like a hot drink? Oh, and feel free to hang up one of your posters in this… reception… area. Just, don't make a hole in the wall with anything. Maybe don't go for that big blank wall there either, it'd appear a little strange. Put it next to the notice board or something. My, you do have many of them. You'll be bound to receive commissions after this, surely. They look very… good. Much like yourself. Yes."

That did not go well.

"Thank you! Do you have hot chocolate?"

"Instant hot chocolate, if that's all right."

"That's great!"

"I'll go boil the water now."

Nerves stirring inside him, Miles left to his office, flicked the kettle on, fixed two mugs, breathed deeply, then headed back into reception.

Phoenix was sifting through his bag with one hand and holding his coat in the other. He wore a blue sweater with dark trousers, which complemented each-other well. Blue wasn't really Edgeworth's favourite colour, but he was surprised by how admirable Wright looked wearing it. He easily pulled off everything he put on, showing off the shape of the body he had beneath the layers easily. It was refreshing for Miles to see him again, in person, wearing another new set of clothes. It was like appreciating him from a different angle each time.

Miles suddenly had no idea what to do with his arms. He decided to fold them, ungracefully.

"Oh hey," Wright greeted again, "thank you for the drink in advance! Is it okay if my coat goes on the hook?"

"You're welcome. And of course! Honestly, where else would it go?"

"Good point!" He stretched over to hang it up.

Edgeworth diverted his attention to the pile of posters. "You've printed many advertisements."

"Yeah, I've decided to see if I can start drumming up business today! I've managed to get some around town already, isn't that great? If we go out, I'll ask around to hang up more. Thank you for the help, by the way!"

Miles very consciously walked over to where they lay on the desk, and picked one up. It had been laid out very well and clearly, and there were two example illustrations shown; one painting of a landscape, and one sketch of a model. The quality caught him by surprise.

"It must've been expensive to print these in colour..."

"I have this fancy printer-scanner thing at home. I use it all the time."

"I see. Wright?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think... could you commission me a painting for the blank wall?"

Phoenix paused and looked at him. "What, really?"

"Indeed. It's a little bland in here, and it'd be nice to make the place seem more inviting. Could you paint some kind of scenery? With flowers. It'd be something clients could appreciate whilst they're waiting."

Making Wright an offer felt alarmingly enjoyable. He very clearly displayed his excitement.

"YES! Yes! Oh my gosh, that'd be great! We can talk costs and stuff later, thank you so much, I'll give you a big discount, it's perfect because people will be able to see my art and they might even ask you about it and it'll start up a conversation and then they might ask about me specifically and they'll get in touch and ask for a painting and the cycle will continue until I'm famous, thank you! Oh, is it still okay if I hang up a poster?"

"Of course. And there's no need to give me a discount."

"Thank you so much, but I don't think-"

"I insist." Miles tried to sound assertive, but not stern.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You ask me if I'm sure quite often, do you think I'm indecisive?"

"You are absolutely the most indecisive person I have ever met, obviously. Aha!" Nick lifted a packet of blu-tack out his bag, then looked at it disappointedly. "Oh. There's not much left. I might need to go to the store to get more at some point, I'll probably run out before today ends. This is so ridiculous, I keep dishing out the money on all these little things..."

Phoenix prepared to stick up the poster, and Miles watched in horror as he detached four huge blobs from the main blob.

"Wright."

"Yeah?"

"You're seriously, unironically complaining about your blu-tack shortage?"

"Yes...?"

"You don't need that much to stick up one mere poster! You have no right to complain– you know what? Give me that. I'll stick it up. I have experience, I was in charge of the notice board for a year during high school. You don't even need to stick all four corners down if you're running low, just do the top two! Look, see?" Miles scolded Nick over his shoulder, standing carefully on his toes. The man seemed to be amused.

Miles snorted at him. "Do you comprehend how little I am about to use?" he asked patronizingly. Nick responded with a dramatic shrug.

" _Tch!_ Observe as I flawlessly stick this poster to the wall. Note how I don't press too hard to avoid damaging the paint. You're fortunate I actually know what I'm-"

He turned to see he'd stuck it on upside-down, and Wright burst out laughing.

He sheepishly unstuck the poster and redid it the right way up.

Nick wiped his eyes. "Are you _sure_ you know what you're doing?"

Miles let out a strange chuckle as he lowered himself. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm a little anxious today."

"Oh gosh, is it me making you anxious?"

"Er, yes." He hoped that wasn't too blunt.

"I'm so sorry! I'll be less intimidating."

"I don't know if that's possible, Wright. You have a very welcoming personality."

"Uh, thank you...?"

"The problem stems from myself, not you. Don't worry."

Time for a subject change!

"The kettle will have boiled by now," Miles said, walking across the room. "I'll go make our drinks. Come through with me if you wish."

Edgeworth could feel himself using words that created distance, probably due to being a little too formal. It was a habit he had, which often blocked him from obtaining personal relationships. The fact that he was keeping a rather pressing secret most likely didn't help.

Phoenix didn't seem to mind though, and gladly let himself be led into the office.

"That's a lot of paperwork," he said, nodding towards the desk.

Edgeworth had hidden everything on his current case in his drawers. What remained was a large stack of random documents from various other things, which he was going to sift through later.

"Indeed," he agreed as he reboiled the kettle. "It comes with being a lawyer."

Phoenix seemed to enjoy that line. "Meeting you was a gift, Mr. Lawyer Man," he said, in a tone that sounded both ironic and not. "I don't know where I'd be without you."

Miles poured the water, and let his curiosity get the better of him. "Actually, how are things with Dahlia now?"

Nick heavily landed on the office sofa. "Oh, well, I told her we needed to have a talk, and she kind of half-heartedly apologised for everything. It was really hard to just initiate the whole thing, you know?"

"I can imagine," said Edgeworth, stirring the drinks.

"She told me we could talk there and then," Phoenix went on. "I kind of wanted to speak in person, but she said she didn't want to go to sleep full of dread. So, we talked about it on the phone."

"I see." Miles handed Nick his hot chocolate. "How did that go?"

"Well... it ended. We're going to remain in touch of course, we've known each-other for a long time, but we aren't an item now. She's a little salty about it, which makes no sense as the relationship was terrible and it didn't look like she was enjoying it."

What a milestone. "Wright... did I inflict all this?"

Phoenix shook his head. "Mr Edgeworth, whether I start dating you or not, my relationship with Dahlia had to end. It wasn't healthy."

Him coming up with such a convincing retaliation so quickly reminded the lawyer of being in court.

"You're right," he said. "I apologise. And as I mentioned before, it's perfectly fine for you to call me by my first name."

"But you keep calling me by my last name."

 _..._ _Huh._

"So I do. Again, I apologise. Maybe my mindset isn't a casual one whilst in the office. Would you like to come upstairs?"

Phoenix appeared keen. "Sure! I'm so curious! I bet barely anyone goes up there..."

Carefully carrying his tea, Miles led Nick into reception, through a door behind the desk, and up some stairs. Phoenix absent-mindedly stared at the small 'staff only' sign as they walked past it.

"We have the entire day to get to know each-other a little more due to it being Sunday," said Miles, the expert conversationalist.

"That's right," said Wright. "I need to hang up some posters though… I hope enough shops are open."

"Maybe I could help?"

"It could be our second date!"

"Wr- Nick, I am unsure if you should rush into something like that with m-"

"Okay fine," Phoenix moaned, "it can be a _bonding activity._ "

Miles unlocked the door to his flat. "That sounds like something distant family members would attempt at a dreadful Christmas gathering."

"Well, if it's not a date, that's what it is." There was a smile in his voice.

"I appreciate you letting me tag along."

Miles opened the door, and he could sense Phoenix's amazement as they entered the sort-of-living-room. The flat had a clean, modern theme; monochrome apart from the odd red feature. It was all very stylised and spacious. Miles liked to think he had a knack for interior design. Of course though, it wasn't usually this clean with a dog like Pess around. He kept that to himself.

He really needed to stop doing that, keeping things to himself.

"I have a dog who makes a mess and sometimes smells," he said abruptly.

"I know," Nick replied.

Miles showed him around his home, all bar his room where Pess lay. Phoenix, of course, made a vaguely inappropriate joke about the mysterious bedroom which Miles shyly brushed off with an uneasy but genuine smile.

Back in the lounge, Nick sipped the last of his hot chocolate. "I still cannot thank you enough for that evening."

Edgeworth shook his head. "It's over now. You're okay, and everything's completely sorted."

"But what was going through your mind? It was a huge risk, I mean, how could you have known for sure what the situation even was?"

"I saw you tell the waitress that you were waiting for a date."

"Oh! Oh man. Your first impression of me was some angry guy yelling at a waitress, and you went ahead and saved my ass anyway?"

"I'm glad I did."

Phoenix blushed, which made Miles feel queasy. "You flatter me, Mr Lawyer Man."

"Speaking of... Nick?"

"Mmmm?"

"Your paintings, from what I've seen, are quite admirable."

The blushing continued. "Thank you."

"Why do you think you're not getting very good business?"

"I really don't know. I tell a lot of my friends about it, and I have loads of my art around my house..."

"Have you made a website?"

"Well, no..."

"Have you created business cards?"

"Uuuh..."

"How many jobs have you applied for throughout the past year?"

"About four...?"

 _"Four?!"_

The art's quality wasn't the issue after all. Phoenix was terrible at managing a business.

"Wright, you'll need to apply to more than one job per three months. Do more digging, go for things that aren't common. There are the obvious occupations; like a curator, something in advertisement or a graphic designer for a company; but there are also unusual jobs, like background or character design for video games, or maybe even sketching victims' descriptions of culprits to aid the police. Constantly check as many job sites as you can, and all the local newspapers. Create your own website and some business cards. I'll help you if you wish."

Phoenix gave him that wistful stare again. "You know so much..."

"My job involves a lot of research on a wide variety of subjects."

"Oh, I see! There's so much more to it than courtrooms and paperwork, isn't there? Do you have _any_ free time?"

"Very little."

"I'm honoured you chose to spend it with me."

Miles disliked being on the receiving end of such dramatic complements. "Let's end this flattery streak now."

Phoenix sensed his embarrassment, and gladly moved the conversation on. "What else does your job involve? What's it like?"

And then guilt started to consume everything. Miles' job involved fooling unsuspecting people into making huge life decisions, that's what.

"I enjoy it," he said. "Solving cases, helping out at the precinct, it's all so mentally stimulating. And it's real people I have to deal with, it's their lives in my hands. When an innocent person is saved from a guilty verdict, it reminds me why I do what I do. I suppose there are one or two downsides, but I don't mind."

"Like loads of paperwork?"

Miles smiled. "Yes. Very much of it, it's rather tedious. The job itself can become tedious too, occasionally. Some cases are truly sad. And it can be quite dangerous."

Why did Miles have to dive into a depressing tangent all of a sudden? He was trying to seem approachable and sociable, not miserable.

"That sounds pretty dramatic," Phoenix said.

"It is, come to think of it."

"I wouldn't mind living a life a little less boring than the one I've got right now."

"Actually," Miles decided, "I think it's important to mention a few things, before we become too involved with each-other."

"Okay."

He could have told him everything there and then. He could have put an end to his guilt, put an end to Wright's love, but it didn't happen. However, Edgeworth believed what he said instead was something incredibly important if his relationship with Wright were to grow.

"Often, some people will take a lawyer's involvement with their lives very personally. They, or their families and friends, will occasionally seek revenge."

"Revenge?" Nick asked with caution.

"Well... for instance, I know a fellow attorney called Mia Fey. She'd highly talented, and has won countless cases. One day, several years ago, her sister went missing. There were a few suspects, all of them related to cases Mia had previously solved. However, it was impossible to determine a culprit due to Fey having involvement in so many cases, and her sister was never found."

Phoenix's face had become grim. "I see."

"Mia is a colleague," Miles continued. "She's a truly delightful person. I'd even met her sister a few times. She was delightful too."

"Oh, gosh."

"It's just shocking when something like that happens to someone you know."

"Edgeworth..."

"And, it's probably immature of me to worry over it, but-"

"No no, it's okay! You haven't scared me off."

"I apologise, this took a gloomy turn."

"Do you..." Nick began, "do you think that was something which stopped you from building relationships with people? Like, worrying about something bad happening?"

"I… I..."

Miles had not thought about that before. His social navigation skills had never been particularly amazing; however, what Wright had pointed out... It seemed realistic. Was it true?

"Oh no," Nick's rather panicked voice cut that train of thought. "Sorry, that was way too personal!"

"Phoenix, it's fine. If anything, you've proven to me that you're rather emotionally attuned. It's an intelligence I wish I possessed."

"To be honest," he said with a sad smile, "I wish I possessed the regular kind of intelligence."

"You've yet to prove to me you don't. I think it's just a lack of a little common sense."

Miles hoped that wasn't too rude a joke.

"You're the one who stuck up my poster upside-down," Phoenix slyly retorted.

"Everyone makes mistakes."

"Including me, surprisingly!"

"Your mistakes are more… potent." Miles enjoyed being sly back.

 _"Potent,"_ Phoenix said poshly.

"Excuse me?"

"It's cute, don't worry!"

"What's _cute!?"_

Wright quickly leaned forwards and pecked him on the cheek.

Before Miles could even consider what happened, Phoenix stood up, eagerly said something about hanging up more posters; and left back down the stairs, leaving the door swinging.

Miles sat up, utterly bewildered. He didn't know if he enjoyed what he was feeling or not. He really, really needed to tell Nick about the evening at the restaurant.

The footsteps approached again, and Wright dramatically gestured at Edgeworth to come join him from the doorway.

"Get up, I want this finished today!"

* * *

It was around lunch time when the pair decided that was enough posters for the day. Nick had invited Miles over to his flat for a meal again, and once they arrived the pair fell into their usual small routine.

"Do you want sandwiches?" Nick asked from the kitchen.

"Why not?" Miles called back from the sofa. The living room he sat in had plain white walls covered in paintings and a camel-coloured carpet. There was a large desk in one corner, art supplies splayed all over it; and in another was a digital piano. Miles had wondered how difficult it must've been to get that up the stairs.

"What do you want in it?"

Despite being alone in there, Edgeworth tilted his head back and held his chin. "Hmmm… Ham?"

He heard Phoenix search the fridge for a few seconds. "No, no ham."

"...Cucumber and cheese?"

"No cucumber, and the cheese I do have probably wouldn't be very good in a sandwich. Or in anything. Ew..."

Miles heard Nick chuck it in the bin.

He tutted. "I suggest _eating_ the food you buy if you wish to be efficient financially!"

"It was Dahlia's!"

"Oh. Salad?"

"No salad!"

"Surprise me, then!"

Miles heard some clattering before Nick asked: "How about we scrap sandwiches and go for French toast? I'm in the mood for it."

"All right," Miles said as he strolled around the doorway into the kitchen. The floor had liner which was made to look like tiles, and to save space the shelves went up to the ceiling.

Generally, Miles became more anxious when in Nick's presence. Nick always seemed to pick up on this, and despite not knowing why, he looked like he felt a little guilty he couldn't do anything about it. If only the innocent Wright knew how much Miles deserved to be so uncomfortable.

"You look great in that shirt," Phoenix said without trouble.

The compliment felt so horribly good. Miles did not appreciate having his head messed with like that.

"And you suit your jumper," he replied cautiously.

As Phoenix cracked the first egg, his mobile rang from the living room.

"Hold on, I'll go get that," he said as he headed out. "Maybe someone wants to hire me already!"

Miles did not reply.

 _That ringtone._

"Hello?"

 _It couldn't be..._

"No, don't worry! What's wrong?"

 _Wright…_

"Oh, I see. Okay. I have someone here right now though. He'll probably be here for a while, I think."

 _His television habits…_

"Right, I'll check."

 _Did he share the same taste?_

"Miles?" Phoenix poked his head around the doorway.

"Your ringtone is The Steel Samurai's theme."

He stepped into the kitchen, covering his mobile's microphone with one hand. "Yeah. More importantly, Dahlia's called, and she says she wants to come over to discuss something, and that it apparently explains why she never showed up that evening for the date. She said she'd been assaulted? It sounds kinda serious. She also wants to pick up the last of her things. I probably shouldn't have thrown away the cheese," he added with an exasperated smile.

"...I see."

"If it's okay," Phoenix continued, "Could you stay? I've told Dahlia I have a guest, and she said it's fine if they can't leave right now. I know you could easily go home, but… could you kind of pretend you live far away or something, and stay?"

 _No, no no no no, not good, nope, no, panic._

"I'm unsure if-"

"Miles, I know it'd be a bit weird, but I just… I don't feel comfortable, being with her here alone. I'm almost scared. She sounded so serious, and… and I know this has everything to do with her now, but I don't want to talk to her alone. She doesn't bite, okay? It'll be awkward, but I'd feel a lot more awkward if it were just me. Please?"

Miles thought quickly.

"Okay."

"Thank you!"

Phoenix wandered back into the living room to finish his conversation.

Miles beat the eggs while he waited. He'd already formed a small plan, one which would keep everyone happy and his investigation in the dark. Dahlia had only seen him at work; and chances were she didn't know his first name, so that was fine. The only issue was that she'd recognise his appearance.

I was almost insane, but...

"Oh, thank you for doing that! I'll soak the bread."

Nick rejoined Miles and practically shoved him out the way in order to show off his courtesy.

"You don't need to-"

"Shush," Nick said, extending an arm. "You bought me a meal at the fanciest restaurant in town! Let me have this one thing."

"Do you want me to unbox the kettle whilst you do that?" Miles asked.

"Good idea!"

"Thank you."

"I still can't believe you bought it, y'know. Was that really necessary?"

Miles practically scoffed. "Of course! You can't expect me to visit your home regularly if you lack the basic requirements for tea-making. I bought a variety of tea bags too, by the way. Be sure to try them."

"Okay."

"I also bought some instant hot chocolate, marshmallows, and cream."

"Marry me."

Miles almost choked on nothing as he unloaded his purchases onto the worktop. He did his best to disguise it as another scoff. "Maybe later," he said.

They worked in an easy silence for a bit.

"I think I'll test a cup of tea," Miles considered, kettle set up and ready. "What kind would you like? There's elderflower, nettle, cherry..."

"Hot chocolate."

"Wright, I was hoping you would-"

"With cream."

"No, Wright, the point of this was-"

"And marshmallows." Phoenix leaned over, pulling a wide smile. "You bought them."

"But, your live reaction to the tea!"

"We can video call, or I can save it until next time."

Miles slumped his shoulders, defeated. "You have enough wit to be a lawyer..."

"Aww, thank you!"

The pair made their drinks and meal, and sat down on the sofa. After they'd finished eating, the conversation picked up again.

"That hot chocolate was great. I am so glad I can make one really easily whenever I want now."

"Please don't forget the tea..."

"I can lure you round more often too, with the fancy hot beverages!"

There were so many things wrong with that sentence. Miles settled on complaining about how he was being stereotyped.

"I'm not some wild animal that needs coaxing!"

"You're as cute as a baby deer though!"

Oh God, that was so smooth. Miles helplessly felt his cheeks turn pink, and his mind became lost looking for a response.

Luckily, Phoenix's phone went off again.

"Oh," he said, getting up. "That might be Dahlia..."

The tune quietly playing a second time from the coffee table triggered a more eager side to Miles' personality.

"That's The Steel Samurai's theme! Why do you have that as your ringtone?"

"My friend got me into it. It's okay for a kids' show, but I changed my ringtone to this so he'd have some peace of mind. Now let me answer! Oh, it's not Dahlia."

He left to take the call in another room. Miles listened.

"Hello? Yes, that's me."

A long pause.

"Really?"

Another long pause.

"Yes. I am." He sounded somewhat blank. "What, now? I think… let me see, hold on. I may need to rearrange a few things."

Nick practically ran back into the living room, hand over the microphone again.

"Miles, Miles, holy shit, Miles, they're opening an art supplies shop in Newton Art Gallery and they need a couple of people with the right knowledge to manage it, and one of the curators saw my poster in the bakery's window and would like to do a quick interview right now because they need someone confirmed ASAP and hiring me today would save her a bunch of trouble! If I can't go now we can do one after the ad for the job is out, but then I'd be less likely to get it because all these other people will be applying! I need to get a taxi and go meet her at Très Bien so she can see what I'm like!"

That was a lot of things at once.

"Well done," Miles settled on saying.

"Dahlia's heading round, can you stay and hold the fort in-case she gets here whilst I'm still gone?"

"...Sure!"

"Oh my God, thank you so much! I'm so sorry about this, hold on I'll finish the call..."

Nick dashed out again.

Miles considered what he'd do. Dahlia had no idea he was seeing her ex-boyfriend, and that if it weren't for Miles she'd still actually be dating him. She wouldn't be happy to find that out. If she did, the lawyer may lose his place on the case, or she'd tell Phoenix the truth in the worst manner possible… Miles needed to act quickly. Phoenix and Dahlia had seemed to be growing quite far apart already, which was what helped Miles feel more comfortable continuing his work on the case. That had gone out the window.

Nick returned.

"Okay, now I need to phone for a taxi, and then tell Dahlia!"

Miles nodded, and silently finalised his ideas whilst Nick left to make more calls.

A nifty plan had been formed to help keep everything secret, but… what if he were to just come clean there and then?

No, Nick was going to an important interview. He couldn't be distracted or worried at this point in time. Maybe when he arrived back afterwards?

"Okay," Phoenix said as he darted from room to room collecting things, "have a go on the piano if you like, don't rearrange anything on my desk and help yourself to whatever's left in the fridge! Dahlia's already on the train, so chances are she'll arrive here before I do. Just make her some tea with the fancy kettle and you'll be fine."

"Good luck. Do you have everything?"

"I'm going to bring my résumé, one of the posters, some sample art, and my noggin!" Phoenix hauled his backpack over his shoulder. "I'm ready for my taxi!"

"I know."

"So much has happened today already!"

"Indeed."

"Do you think I'll be able to get the job?"

"The curator obviously thinks so."

Nick unexpectedly threw his arms in the air. "But that's just a poster! What if she looks at me and thinks… or, or what if I open my mouth and say something stupid? She'll think I'm an idiot and I won't get the job. I'll need to be so careful!"

"Please don't put yourself down like that. It's well within your capabilities to do just fine."

"I've never really done anything like this before."

"Not many people are invited to spur-of-the-moment interviews."

"Will I make a good enough impression? I'm not very clever..."

"It's up to you to make a good impression. You certainly made one on me. And yes, I shouldn't need to keep telling you you are intelligent enough."

"But… But I'm an idiot, Miles! I didn't study a fancy law degree, I've barely been employed, my paintings are mediocre at best, aren't they? Dahlia said they were!"

"Wright, you're panicking."

"Why would the lady hire an unexceptional moron like me, Miles?!"

"Wright!"

Phoenix then realised just how much he was overreacting, and relaxed his stance, signalling that Miles could lower his voice.

"Wright..." Miles said tenderly. He riskily touched Nick's face, doing his best to improve his mood. "Please, don't insult my standards. I wouldn't be standing here right now if you were unexceptional."

Phoenix's shoulders lowered a little more. He didn't seem to mind the hand. "I'm sorry… I wish you could come with me."

"I'll be with you in spirit. Do your best."

"But… should I? Do I really deserve a good job? Do they really deserve me?"

"I'm not even sure I deserve you, and I mean that in the most positive way possible."

Miles had made himself uncomfortable, becoming so soft so easily. Did it have anything to do with the presence of a burden? Or was he just awkward?

"Why," Nick placed his hand on Miles', "are you so good to me?"

"If you don't want to do well in this interview for yourself, do it for me."

"I'll… I'll do it for the both of us!"

There was the honk of a horn.

"Oh, that's the taxi! Gotta go!" Nick swiftly kissed Miles' cheek a second time and dashed out of the apartment.

"Make sure Dahlia doesn't take anything that's mine!" he called from the bottom of the stairs.

Miles watched the taxi drive off through the living room window before he got to work.

He picked his coat up from the stool it rested on, and fished his glasses out its inner pocket. He stuffed the coat in a kitchen cupboard, and carried the specks into the bathroom, where he closed and locked the door out of habit, and set them down on the edge of the sink.

Edgeworth knew Wright had hair gel somewhere. He used it often to keep the stray bits of hair at the front of his head from hanging over his face, apparently.

He found a small jar in the cupboard behind the mirror. He took it, internally apologising to Wright for using up his supplies, and dipped his fingers into it. It felt disgustingly slimy to the point where Miles didn't want it anywhere near his hair, but he slid his fingers backwards through his bangs, forcing the fibres down. He did it again and again, until it was all completely slicked back. It was a somewhat similar style to his father's, which was admittedly what Miles was going for – it was just about the only hairstyle he knew would be possible, and that he could pull off.

Miles looked at his reflection. Even he could see the heavy resemblance to his father, just like everyone said. He did not mind this; Gregory Edgeworth was a respectable man, and he enjoyed himself and his father being known as a dynamic duo of sorts. This was something he never openly admitted often, but Gregory knew and appreciated that his son wasn't very expressive.

Miles considered how he could make his face look any more different. He knew of a few tactics some women used to alter their looks without using make-up, such as pinching their cheeks or brushing their lips with toothbrushes. He felt a little unsure over using Nick's toothbrush for this, but with how things were developing, their relationship would probably become a lot more intimate than something like that anyway.

The colour of Miles' face and lips now slightly pinker than usual, he took out his contacts and slid his glasses on, then checked himself in the mirror one last time. He really did look like Gregory. With all that gel in his bangs leaving his entire face revealed, Miles thought he appeared a lot older. Not aged though, just more mature. He was already looking forward to washing it all out.

His excuse for Nick when he returned was that his bangs kept getting in his eyes, and one of them had messed up a contact lens. Miles had been forced to wear his glasses, and to avoid the issue for a while he'd borrowed some hair gel to keep it out his face.

 _Everything is going to be fine_ , Edgeworth thought as he sprayed some of Nick's deodorant on. _I look so different that Dahlia will have no clue who I am, and when Wright gets back, I'll make sure the topic of conversation does not fall onto the subject of my personal affairs. She doesn't know that "Miles" and "Mister Edgeworth" are one and the the same, and she never will. Nick will be happy, and I will be happy too._

There was a knock at the door.

Miles could've sworn his heart had started beating audibly. Breathing heavily, he scanned the apartment one quick final time to check all evidence relating _Mister Edgeworth_ had been hidden.

He then stood by the front door for a few moments.

 _The world will go on, with or without me. Nothing matters, let's get this over with..._

He unlocked it to see Dahlia standing there prettily. Her hair was in its usual dual plait style; and she held a closed parasol by her side, despite the weather outside being mild and overcast. She had large bags under her eyes.

"Are you Miles?"

Time to win an Oscar.

"I am Miles, indeed! Come in! I'll keep you company while Nick does his interview." He decided to try and make his voice slightly more nasal, similar to his late-date personality.

Dahlia was acting too. "Awww, thank you!"

She took two steps inside before she stopped, and childishly pointed towards the kitchen.

"Huh…? Is that a kettle? It wasn't here before."

"Ah, yes. Nick bought it recently for practicality. Do you want a drink?"

Dahlia clapped her hands. "Yes please! What drinks are there?"

"Hot chocolate, coffee, tea-"

"Tea please!"

Miles nodded, feeling practically naked when his bangs didn't fall in front of his eyes, and filled up the kettle. Dahlia had made herself at home already and was waiting in the living room, humming.

Miles did his best to calm himself down and keep in-character as he set up two cups, and then headed into the living room whilst he waited for the kettle to boil. He leaned on the doorway, focussing keeping an out-of-character chilled-out posture. Dahlia looked up at him from the sofa and grinned.

"So how do you know Nick?" she asked, subtly eyeing him up and down.

Miles decided not to add more lies to the pile. "We're… sort of dating, I think."

"Oh! He's moving on already?"

"It would seem so. Uh, sorry..."

"You'll have to be careful, Mister Miles. Men who move on so quickly are not to be trusted."

"I'll keep that in mind. We are taking things very slowly, don't worry." He did his best not to slip back into using his usual, serious tone.

"Good. I don't want either of you to get hurt or anything!"

Of _course_ she didn't.

"Thank you for the consideration! Any advice on dating Nick?"

Dahlia delicately held her chin. "Hmmm… have patience. He's very anxious, like a poor lost puppy."

That was surprisingly accurate.

"And you're okay? Are you handling the break-up well? I apologise if you won't wish to be asked this - by myself especially, by the way."

"No no, it's all right! I kind of wish we hadn't broken up, but it was a mutual thing, really. It's time to work on a new chapter for me!"

"Your positive attitude is almost infectious."

"Thank you?"

"It was a complement, indeed."

Dahlia tilted her head. "You're awfully formal. Why not loosen up a bit?"

"If I could do such a thing at will, I would."

The kettle clicked.

"Oh! Is the water boiled?"

"Yes. I'll make our drinks!"

Miles was worried his cheerfulness sounded a little too fake. He was going for a sort of jolly persona, one which went well with his natural erudition. Hopefully Dahlia thought he was nervous due to talking to a stranger. Or she could easily have been pretending she didn't recognise him already, and he was screwed.

This was not fun.

He poured the drinks, self-conscious of how loud he clinked the mugs with the spoon as he stirred; dumped the tea bags, poured in the milk and carried them back into the living room.

"Thank you!" Dahlia daintily took her mug.

"No problem. So you had to take a train here?"

Dahlia tried taking a sip of her tea, but squeaked when it was too hot. "Huh? Er, yes. Sorry."

"It's all right."

"I have a car, and the drive is only half-an-hour, but I'm honestly a little nervous about driving into a city, so I usually take the train. It's just easier."

"I see. Is it not costly?"

"Well, I don't travel in too often, and when I did for Nick I usually stayed the night here. Or… several nights."

"Ah, so that's why a lot of your possessions remained here!"

"Yes! I actually have to pick a mug and a few books up before I leave. A few of Nick's things are still at my apartment, so we'll need to arrange a date for him to come and get those too."

Miles nodded. "Mm."

"So how did you meet Nick? Have you known each-other long?"

"Only a week and a bit… I met him at Evangeline."

"Oh. I couldn't get there that night. I kind of have a feeling that the whole situation was what prompted Nick to dump me."

"Well, was there a good reason for you not to contact him?"

"Yes! I had an emergency meeting with the police about… about an assault. It's why I came to visit Nick today, too. A crazy man attacked me, and that's all linked to why I wasn't there that evening. I might be forgiven if I tell him the truth..."

Miles realised he may have been slightly harsh towards Dahlia. Sure, half of the things she said were lies, but she had literally been strangled. Even if it was by someone she was cheating with.

"I'm sorry something so devastating and unsettling happened to you."

"Thank you. By the way, this tea..." Dahlia held her mug close to her face to breathe the warm air in, then took a sip.

"Yes?"

She blissfully sighed as she felt its taste. "It's perfect," she said, "you remembered exactly how I like it."


End file.
